Pirates of the Caribbean: Off the Edge of the Map
by AmazinglyMe
Summary: It's about time to put this story away, and yes, I mean for good. It was a big undertaking, I faltered, and then I didn't finish in time. I am sorry. If anyone wants to save it or something ? it will be left up for two weeks as of today June 15, 2007.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Well, here I am, putting down several other projects to give everyone a prologue to a sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. In fact, The Little Things is on hiatus for reasons explained more fully in my profile (in case anyone wanted to know :P)._

_Summary: Will, Elizabeth, Barbossa, and crew are all setting sail to rescue Jack from what seem to be the jaws of death. But the newly reinstated Commodore Norrington has been sent to kill Jack Sparrow and anyone with him -- and Davy Jones is after first his heart and then the infamous Captain Jack. And where is Jack anyway? Action, adventure, romance, and comedy on the high seas are sure to ensue -- this is a Pirates fanfic after all. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates -- either the first two, or the soon-to-come third movie. _

* * *

It was dark. Dark and rather wet. And out of the darkness came a voice. 

"Women." The voice said. It paused, then spoke again. "_Women._ They aren't worth it you know. Bloody amazing and then they start obsessing over moral centers."

There was another pause.

"My hat is bloody sopping." The voice remarked almost as though expecting an apology. Whoever it was did not make any apologies.

"I don't know about you," the voice said, "but I'm not particularly enjoying this situation. Not," it added quickly, "that I'm asking to be swallowed any time soon. No. They say never to look a gift horse in the mouth and who am I to argue with them? Whoever they are."

This time the pause was longer.

"Have you noticed there's no rum here?" Inquired the voice. There was still no answer. There was a sigh from the darkness. "You know mate, you're not the best conversationalist."

Still no reply.

"Listen, I know you're very busy, and you have your own problems, but I'd be much obliged if you'd just drop me off somewhere. Some nice island maybe. This may come as a surprise to you mate, but this isn't the most comfortable place to live. I've seen worse, but still."

Nothing but the somewhat muffled sound of rushing water.

"You know," Captain Jack Sparrow said, "they say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, but I'm not talking to myself, I'm talking to the inside of a Kraken, so that should be alright, don't you think?"

* * *

"What is this?" Elizabeth was the first to break the astonished silence that enveloped Tia Dalma's hut. "Some kind of...of hoax?" 

There before a disbelieving crew stood the supposedly late Captain Barbossa, the monkey named Jack on his shoulder.

"Hoax?" It was Barbossa himself who spoke, raising one eyebrow in question. "And what kind of hoax would this be, missy?"

"She's right sir, beggin' your pardon but we were all of one mind regarding your, er, status sir." Gibbs mumbled.

"Oh yes?" Barbossa asked.

"We thought you was dead!" Ragetti announced bluntly, his wooden eye rolling in its socket.

The monkey started chattering on Barbossa's shoulder.

"I saw you die with my own eyes, I was there!" Elizabeth said, her voice rising.

"It's true Barbossa." Will said levelly, not bothering to disguise the distaste for the pirate captain in his voice. "I was there when Jack shot you. If you've somehow cheated death--"

"_Not_ cheated death." Tia Dalma interjected immediately, her voice harsh. "No one cheats death. It cannot be done."

Barbossa opened his mouth to pick up the tale again, but Tia was continuing on, her heavily accented voice commanding the room's attention.

"No one can cheat death, not even me. But when _Captain Jack Sparrow_," she gave the name false airs, "shot his mutinous first mate, he did it when the curse had not yet been lifted. The bullet was inside Barbossa before the curse was lifted by young Mr. Turner. It wounded him -- yes. It almost killed him. But instead he wandered in the world of the half-dead -- those pirates who've not yet caught the attention of Davy Jones. He was lucky not to catch the attention of other, _less friendly_ things before I found him. No one cheats death." She repeated the four words once more, scanning the room, finding the gaze of every person. "And now he has agreed to be your captain."

"Why?" Elizabeth said, at the same time Will said, "To where?"

Barbossa smiled. "I'm doin' it out of the goodness of my heart, Miss. Turner -- or Miss. Swann, isn't it?" Elizabeth winced slightly.

"It was to be Mrs. Turner." She said under her breath. "Before this mess."

Will ignored Barbossa.

"To where?" He repeated, this time directing his question to Tia Dalma.

"To the ends of the earth William Turner."

"And we're going there to save Jack?" Will asked, sounding doubtful.

"You think he does not live? You think the Kraken killed him? It should have." Everyone waited for her to offer some kind of explanation, but she said nothing for a time. Then she threw her hands up into the air.

"He stole my ring!" She exclaimed. "When he was here, the dirty pirate stole my ring. It gave him luck beyond the usual -- it doesn't stop death," she added, shooting a glance at Barbossa, "just gives you a bit of extra luck. And Jack Sparrow already had an uncanny knack for staying among the living. Now you can find him. But only with Barbossa's help."

"Oh yes? And why do we need the aid of a pirate?" Elizabeth asked. For a moment she stood a bit taller and threw her head back as though she were attending a ball in Port Royal. Tia Dalma simply laughed.

"Have you forgotten what you're wearin' then? Forgotten what you've done, these last few days? You _are_ a pirate now dearie."

"Elizabeth is not a pirate." Will said.

"How honorable of you William Turner." Tia Dalma said, shooting an unreadable glance in his direction. "But if you all want to find _Captain Jack Sparrow_, I suggest you sail with Barbossa. He's the only one here who can find him."

Her tone said that there would be no more questions asked.

* * *

The crowds, in all their finery, had dispersed, going back to their respective homes. The sun beat down on the fort at Port Royal as the newly reinstated Commodore Norrington twirled his sword. 

"Reinstated at full rank?" Governor Swann inquired in an undertone as he walked past. "He must want something from you --"

"Silence _governor_," Lord Beckett said, "or I will be forced to drop even the pretence that you are in control here, and that could be very bad for your daughter. Understood?"

"Do you even know where Elizabeth is?" The Governor asked, but he allowed himself to be led away from the fort without receiving an answer. He had presided over the ceremony, but both he and Lord Beckett knew that he was no longer in a position of power in Port Royal. The East India Trading Company controlled this particular outpost of the British Empire now.

Commodore Norrington followed Lord Beckett into his private offices, once the governor's.

"_Governor_ Swann has hit upon the point with an unerring accuracy Commodore Norrington." Beckett said in a business-like tone. "The missions you perform for the East India Company will be strictly off the record. And your first one ought to be simple for a man of your power and status: deliver a message on the behalf of Governor Swann to a tiny little outpost in the Caribbean. Of course, if in the course of your duties you should _happen_ to find and kill Captain Jack Sparrow and all who sail with him, well, that would not be frowned upon. Do you understand, _Commodore_?"

"Perfectly."

"Excellent. A crew has been gathered and a ship supplied -- The Dauntless has been made ready for you."

Norrington shuddered slightly. It had been The Interceptor that had been caught in the hurricane and fallen apart. Norrington was always haunted by the fear that if he had decided to take Dauntless, it would not have fallen apart. The Dauntless was a sturdier ship -- made of far sterner stuff than The Interceptor.

"Is there a problem Commodore Norrington?" Lord Beckett asked.

"No Lord Beckett."

"You leave tomorrow morning with the tide."

"I will not disappoint you Lord Beckett."

"I should hope not."

* * *

There was something strange about the ship. 

The sailor on night watch had spotted it from the crow's nest and had been about to call out when something had stayed his tongue. There she sat on the water, just like any ordinary ship. And yet...he shuddered. There was something...off about that ship.

And then as he watched in horror and disbelief the ship sank straight down under the water, its mast plowing the surface for a moment before it disappeared entirely beneath the waves.

The man shook his head. "Just been awake to long." He comforted himself, and went to ask the other men if he could come off of duty a bit early tonight.

Onboard the impossible ship an enraged man stood. His face was covered in tentacles, but his furious shouting could be heard perfectly well just the same.

"Jack Sparrow is not dead! His debt has not been repaid! First we will find the chest and then...I will collect my payment once and for all!"

The ship flew on through the moonlit water, holding an unerring course towards Port Royal.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading -- please tell me what you thought of it._

_Just a few quick notes about this story..._

_This is just a prologue. Not a lot of depth, nor character development: just establishing where everyone is and what's going on. _

_Also, I know that there are already spoilers out there for POTC 3. I'm not adhering to those. There are just to many gaping holes in the information we have about it, and I don't feel up to filling them in. However, I do feel up to attempting a Pirates story written and plotted by myself. _

_ Once again, please give me some feedback and let me know how I'm doing. Thanks! _

_- AmazinglyMe _


	2. Setting Sail

_A/N: Hello again everybody! Your reviews really blew me away -- thanks for taking the time to leave a positive remark, and to point out my mistakes. I really appreciated it. I do address the mistake at the bottom of the chapter. Please read and let me know what you think! _

* * *

Chapter Two

On Davy Jones' cursed ship, the deck does not rock back and forth atop the waves and the sails do not blow in the wind. Instead water rushes above, around, and below the vessel, and it holds perfectly still and to a true course, as it speeds through the water.

Legends say it is an eerie thing when you first experience it -- after all, a sailor becomes accustomed to feeling the deck rock beneath his feet when he's sailing towards the next port. But then, as legend would have it, everything about _The Flying Dutchman_ is frightening. The way it sails, its crew -- and its captain.

Davy Jones sat in his cabin playing on his organ, the notes sounding through the still water like a funeral dirge. His pipe clicked between his lips as he listened to running footsteps approaching his door. Who would dare -- ?

The door opened with a bang to reveal "Bootstrap" Bill Turner, panting, his face covered in barnacles. If a pirate of Davy Jones' crew could manage to look even more unkempt than usual, Bootstrap had done it. He looked haggard and worn, as though the agelessness of serving before the mast of _The Flying Dutchman_ was not applying to him. Lines creased his pale skin and his eyes searched the captains' quarters frantically, as though expecting to find whatever he sought staring him in the face.

"Captain!" He cried.

"Mr. Turner, are you under the impression that you can come rushing in to my quarters without permission?" The captain's voice was permeated with a dangerous sarcasm.

"Captain," the man continued as though oblivious to the trouble he was bringing down upon his own head, "the men are saying that Jack Sparrow isn't dead."

"That may be so. Is it your concern Mr. Turner?"

"Yes Captain. My--my son was sailing with Sparrow when you sent the...Kraken."

"Your concern, is it?"

"Yes Captain, I--" Bootstrap only now seemed to start to care about the danger he was putting himself in.

"Because I was under the impression that your concern was keeping this ship sailing!"

"Captain --"

"Mr. Turner, return to your duties or face the...unpleasant consequences of interrupting Davy Jones. You are lucky that I am in a fair mood."

Bootstrap stood, helpless and silenced as the Captain strode out of his cabin. Davy Jones turned back at the last minute, what might have been a grim smile playing on his lips, underneath his tentacles.

"You have been informed correctly Mr. Turner. Jack Sparrow is not dead."

For an instant a smile lit the face of Bootstrap Bill Turner, and he looked almost alive.

"As soon as we have secured my chest, we will find him and all who sail with him, and kill each and every last man aboard."

The ship sailed on beneath the waves as the unearthly cackle of it's captain rang through the water.

* * *

Half a world away, underneath a bright sun, William Turner stood on the deck of a ship, provided by the natives of the bayou. 

When the ship was pulled from the swamp on ropes by a group of silent men and women, Will and the rest of the crew had stared in disbelief.

"How did a ship come to be in the middle of a swamp?" Will had asked, eyeing it with no small suspicion.

"The people of the bayou are mysterious. I am one of them. And they mourn for Jack. They want you to bring him back."

It had been left at that. No one wanted to question at all thoroughly the ship that would take them out to open sea -- and to rescue Jack.

To rescue Jack. He had agreed to rescue Jack Sparrow. Why?

He wanted to think it was because he was a good man, and an honorable one, and that he would go to any lengths to save a friend. But perhaps it was because he would to go any lengths to revenge himself upon his enemies...

"Will!" Will started. It was Mr. Gibbs, holding a barrel.

"Take this below deck, hmm?"

Will obligingly took the barrel and heard a sloshing noise. He raised an eyebrow.

"Rum?"

"What else?" Asked Pintel as he passed by, grinning. Ragetti giggled. Will shook his head slightly and carried the barrel below deck, wonderingly idly if simply throwing it overboard would cause a complete mutiny.

Above deck Barbossa was inspecting every inch of the new ship that was now his to command. He looked eager to be gone, his fingers clenched and unclenched, tapping on the deck railing and the handle of his sword, and his eyes roved over the open horizon. Tia Dalma stood watching as the ship was made ready. She laughed softly to herself.

"Once cursed pirates, a governor's daughter, and a would-be blacksmith." Her eyes found Will, clambering back up the stairs to say something to Gibbs.

"A touch of destiny..." She murmured to herself.

"You are ready to make sail?" She called loudly to the strangely assorted crew.

"Aye." Came the varied chorus.

"Then godspeed. Find Jack. And do not get caught in the glow."

"The glow of what?" Elizabeth asked immediately.

Tia Dalma shrugged. "Of treasure. Of adventure. Of freedom. Of the open seas. Who knows? Not only gold glows after all. All I know is this. _Do not get caught in the glow._"

"And if you don't mind me inquiring, how do you know?" Gibbs asked.

"I know many things Mr. Gibbs, and it is not for you to know how or why. Good luck."

The ship was cast off, it's mooring lines loosened, and it headed out towards open waters.

Gibbs frowned resignedly and turned to his new captain. The entire crew did so, with no small trepidation.

"Well Captain, what's our heading?" Gibbs asked, his hand on the wheel. Barbossa did not respond. "Captain? Where are we headed sir?"

Barbossa gave his crooked smile. "The end of the world." He took the wheel himself.

"Er, would you be meaning that literally or figuratively sir?" Ragetti asked, his wooden eye rolling in its socket.

"Well now, that all depends on what happens when we get there."

* * *

_A/N: I sincerely hope I did not disappoint. _

_As to the mistake I made in the previous chapter..._

_Thank you to both Phoenix Plames and Riderazzo for pointing out my mistake -- that is to say, that the Interceptor was destroyed by the Black Pearl in the previous movie. Sorry about that -- sloppy on my part. Thanks again guys!_

_And thanks to everybody who reviewed the first chapter! I've heard we're not allowed to do individual reviewer thank you's any more (true?) so I'll just say that it was really encouraging and exciting to have such a positive response. I certainly hope I can make this story fulfill any and all expectations. _


	3. The Kraken's Berth

_A/N: Well, here it is...Chapter 3. Hope everybody likes it. I've been in a bit of an updating frenzy lately on a few of my other stories, but I may have neglected this one. Sorry! Anyway, please read and tell me what you think of it. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its various settings, plots, or characters. I have also recently noticed that a certain scene in this chapter resembles one from the book "The Ear, The Eye, and The Arm" by Nancy Farmer. I do not own that book either. : ) _

* * *

Jack Sparrow stood up. It wasn't as easy as it sounds. 

Slime stretched all around him and pooled around his ankles. With every step he took there was a brief moment of pull as he freed his boot from the sticky, mucky stuff. He made a face, sticking his tongue out.

"This is disgusting mate. Ought to brush those teeth once in a while too." He commented as he slogged his way through the inside of the Kraken. "'Course, it'd be a bloody long job, cleaning them all." He added, as he approached the rings of sharp teeth that marked the Kraken's mouth. He eased slowly along the edge of the sharp rows, trying to avoid both impalement by Kraken tooth and stepping on the enormous tongue, all the time making his way towards the light that glowed up ahead.

"This," he told a particularly nasty looking tooth, "is a fairly ridiculous situation."

Only a few moments before he'd been sitting, feeling rather defeated (and more then a bit thirsty) when he'd noticed something. At first he hadn't been able to put his finger on it, but he knew something was different. Something had changed.

He had looked around him, mystified. Not much could change here. The Kraken swallowed a few more fish occasionally, but that was about it. The light always stayed the same -- dim at best. And what else was there to see?

Then, rather suddenly, it had occurred to him that there was a noise missing. The noise of rushing water.

Always, when the Kraken was on the move, there was the sound of the ocean flowing by outside. The water rushed relentlessly onward, flowing around the enormous beast, but there had been a sudden absence of this noise. And therefore, he assumed, a sudden absence of movement.

"Have we made port then mate?" He'd called. He waited for a moment. "Not a very chatty fellow are you? Right. Time for a change of lodgings, I think."

And so Jack Sparrow had stood and began to make his way toward the front of the Kraken.

Now he peered out from the edge of the enormous mouth and took in his surroundings. The Kraken had not chosen a particularly welcoming spot to make berth.

They were in an enormous, damp, cave. The water lapped against the rock, and the walls were grim and dark. The system of caves seemed to go on and on -- certainly as far as Jack could see -- and the water cast eerie reflections and patterns of blue-black light onto the walls and ceiling. Unwelcoming perhaps, but it had a large advantage over the inside of a Kraken -- that was to say, it wasn't the inside of a Kraken.

Jack dove out of the mouth, narrowly missing a huge tooth, and hit the water swimming. He didn't think the Kraken would bother to pursue him now. He was one lone man, and Davy Jones thought he was dead. But he wasn't taking any chances, and his pace as he swam was a far cry from leisurely.

His knees banged against solid rock and he stood, wincing slightly and once again looking around.

Jack didn't particularly expect to find much rum in a series of abandoned caves, but he was, after all, Captain Jack Sparrow, and so he set off to look, one hand on his sword.

His boots made a faint squelching noise that echoed through the empty caves. He wished idly for a candle -- the light here was dim at best. There was a faint noise of dripping water that echoed through the caves in a disorienting way, the sound rebounding off the rock walls and flying through the air as an almost palpable thing. The Kraken's breathing rushed through the caves, a heavy, rhythmic, whooshing noise. The caves truly did seem to stretch on for an eternity. Just as Jack had decided to call a halt something caught his eye and held it.

There was an opening in the rock to his left, and from it a very faint glow emanated, only visible because of the poor quality of the surrounding light. Jack moved stealthily toward it, sticking to the cave wall, his hand gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. But when he peered around the edge of the opening a grin spread across his face.

Spread out before him in the cave was treasure. Vast mounds of it, enormous piles. Gold glinted in the faint daylight coming from a hole in the ceiling, jewels of all kinds sat scattered amongst the coins and cups and necklaces. He took another step and bent down to pick up a gold coin.

Suddenly there was a slight clinking noise and a slight movement to his left. He whirled to face the source of the noise only to find that it was coming from all around him. The treasure was shifting, and rising out of it like wraiths from the sea came the figures of men.

The coins slid off of them as they stood, slightly stooped. Quite a few of them were uncomfortably close, and Jack took a step backwards even as more and more of the figures emerged from the hills of sparkling gold.

Their clothes were in rags and their bodies so emaciated that the outlines of bones could be seen, but each and every one of them drew a sword and pointed it directly at Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Ah," said the Captain, bringing up his sword to fend off a blow from the man who was nearest to him, "this presents a complication."

Sheer practicality demanded that he run, and so he did. They outnumbered him, and they had the advantage of surprise. And anyway there was something about their eyes...Jack shuddered. He was in no position to fight a horde of what seemed to be treasure guardians, so he ran as fast as he could, simply hoping that he was faster then all of them.

But there was no pursuit.

Curious Jack chanced a glance back over his shoulder only to find that there was no one there. Two men stood in the entrance to the treasure cave, their rags hanging off of them as they watched him flee. He decided not to question his good fortune -- at least, not until he had put large amounts of distance between him and the armed men -- so he ran on, back to the cave in which the Kraken had stopped.

At first he saw nothing. Calm water without a beast -- deadly or otherwise -- in sight. But the bubbles on the surface of the water gave away the Kraken's presence. The creature was submerged but still there.

Jack settled himself back against the wall of the cave, hopefully out of the Kraken's reach, but close enough so that he could see any passing ships. Though the ocean outside the cave was unbroken by any sight for miles -- ship, island, or even seagull -- he was taking no chances.

Then, once he was satisfied with his location, Captain Jack Sparrow set himself to the task of drudging up all his memories of pirate lore, of tales of the high seas, and of mutterings that had reached his ears that concerned the Kraken and where it made berth.

It was high time he discovered just what he had gotten himself into this time.

* * *

_A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. I realize it was a bit short, but it necessary. Please let me know what you thought! _  



	4. Legends of The Sea

_A/N: Finally! Another chapter. Heehee. I am very sorry for the wait, so without delay I introduce you to the remembrances of Captain Jack Sparrow._

* * *

Pirate's tales are almost always of the tall variety. As they lean back in taverns, swigging from their mugs and speaking of exploits with cursed treasure, angry natives, magical talismans, and even Davy Jones himself, their mates laugh, and wallop them on the back, and tell them that they've had one to many beers.

Of course, Captain Jack Sparrow knows that almost all of those tales of pirate adventures are absolutely true. And often these tales come with the promise of rum, bought by the storyteller and drunk by the listener. Who is he to pass up such an offer?

Such being the case, he has heard many of these tales in his time, late at night in the bunk room, or while lounging about in Tortuga. And he has soaked them all in, along with the rum, because you never know.

And so before Jack had gone to borrow that little drawing from Davy Jones he had found out everything he could about the infamous captain. There weren't many people who had been willing to talk. Mostly he heard old legends, tall tales that every sailor worth his salt knew. Some men told him he'd be better off minding his own business. But every once in a while he struck gold -- someone who was willing to give him at least a muttered sentence or two. And whenever anyone spoke of Davy Jones there was one subject that inevitably arose -- the Kraken. Men spoke of it with huge, wild eyes, or with their eyes firmly shut, their hands shaking, flying through the air, or balled into tight fists, knuckles going white.

"He's a killer." One man had told him, his voice shaking. "Huge mouth. Rings of teeth. And he's at the beck and call of the moodiest man above the sea or below it." The word Kraken and the name Davy Jones were both left unspoken. Anything to avoid incurring the wrath of either.

Another man had simply shook his head when asked about Davy Jones, but just as Jack was turning to go he called out in a hoarse whisper. "Leave him alone, if you know what's good for you." Jack had sighed and turned again, but the man had again stopped him. "I know you've heard it before. 'Stay away from Davy Jones, he'll kill you as soon as look at you.' But I'm telling you something else. Stay way from Davy Jones, because the Kraken answers to Jones and Jones alone. And if you upset the great Davy Jones, the Kraken..." There was a pause, and then the man finished his sentence. "..._comes for you._"

Under any other circumstances this would have simply been silly. Superstitious. But Jack Sparrow had met cursed pirates and he had seen exactly where disbelief in superstition could get a man. He took the man's words with a grain of salt. Of course, he would still go after the key. He wouldn't be Captain Jack Sparrow if he didn't.

One man had taken a deep, shuddering breath, looked at Jack, and looked away again. He shook his head. "Some fool's quest, it'll be." He said, as though speaking to himself. "For treasure. Fame. Glory. Rags to riches, that'll be it."

Jack waited impatiently, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword.

"The Kraken?" The man asked, and burst into a sudden fit of hysterical laughter. Just as suddenly, a few moments later, the laughter died. The man stared at Jack. Then all in a low, whispered rush, he said, "The Kraken is what you'll be up against and make no mistake you'll be dead before you can say "Bob's your uncle." No second chances. No try, try again. And if you did manage, somehow, to stay alive 'til the Kraken berthed, then you'd see the treasure. Or the treasure would see you. Eat you alive, wouldn't it? Leave you nothing. Yes, yes, that's sure to be it, isn't it?"

When a few minutes of silence had passed Jack had left, annoyed, but vaguely uneasy. He had learned long ago to listen to crazy men. They were almost unfailingly correct.

Now, sitting with his back against the damp wall of a cave, his unease was growing. Something very, very odd was going on here, something he was beginning to suspect he wanted nothing to do with.

And yet in the back of his mind, he knew already that he wasn't going to leave -- not even if he got the chance. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, and there was treasure, vast amounts, just a few caves away. Adventure. Danger. And lots of money. What was there not to like?

Now all he needed was a plan.

* * *

Halfway around the world Davy Jones was plotting the acquisition of a very different kind of treasure. 

_The Flying Dutchman_ had anchored underwater just a few miles down the coast from Port Royale. Davy Jones raised one eyebrow expectantly, his tentacles clicking and writhing about. His first mate waited attentively for orders, his eyes fixed firmly on the weathered planks beneath his feet.

"Bring me my heart."

That night, under the cover of a brewing storm, a lone figure emerged from the inky black waters and began to make its way towards Port Royale.

* * *

_A/N_: _Whoo! It's been a while hasn't it? I really am sorry. Real life became rather busy. Anyway, I hope this chapter was okay. We're looking at what will hopefully be a surprise next chapter, so stay tuned! And please remember to review. :)_


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